


anything but lovely

by cielle (scipunx)



Series: of unsound mind and a traitorous heart [1]
Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unresolved Sexual Tension, brief mention of knifeplay, shameless flirting, stabby emo boi meets wannabe-stabby emo gril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23927290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scipunx/pseuds/cielle
Summary: Reina asks Damon for a knife lesson, to which he happily obliges:“Had I known how much this would turn you on, I woulda offered to teach you how to knife someone sooner.”
Relationships: Damon Reznor/Traveler, Vexx Serif/Traveler
Series: of unsound mind and a traitorous heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188551
Comments: 13
Kudos: 72





	anything but lovely

**Author's Note:**

> _“Don’t listen too closely. You might start to feel pity.  
>  You might start to feel pretty. Don’t listen too closely.  
> You’ll hide behind your teeth, find comfort in white sheets.  
> Don’t listen too closely. You might start to feel pretty used.”  
> _   
> 

“Can you teach me how to use this thing?”

Reina watches Damon’s eyebrows arch upwards at her request, as she extends out an open palm holding the knife he had given her.

Maybe it’s just her being the rebellious youngest child of Peg’asi royalty (who is she kidding, that’s what it definitely is), but since several nearly successful assassination attempts, Reina has always held a fascination for sharp, pointy instruments that could slice a man’s jugular.

Such an interest isn’t very befitting for a princess, however, and Reina had tucked away violent thoughts of self-defence—no _,_ of _retribution_ behind a placid face, polite words and refined table manners.

Vexx had seen through her act. She still hears his deep laughter reverberate in her ears, feels the playful but threatening edge of steel against her skin, the heat of his breath across her neck, quickening her pulse…

_“This is what you want, isn’t it, Princess?"_

Cold dread fills her lungs again, inundating her with fragments of memories that short-circuit her mind—

“—you continue to surprise me, Princess,” a smirk spreads across Damon’s face.

Reina inhales to clear the heaviness in her throat. Schooling her face to mirror the assassin’s, she gives him a sly look.

“I try my best.”

Damon reminds her of Vexx in many ways. They carry their weapons in the same practised fashion, knowingly having snuffed out the lights of many. Vexx never spoke of his work in great detail, but Reina wasn’t totally ignorant. The murkiness in his eyes belied all of those looks filled with adoration, every time he had tenderly touched her…

It was all just fabricated bullshit.

_She should’ve known better._

All the soft smiles, the honeyed words, the way he would always brush his knuckles against Reina’s cheek, all of that was just a means to an end, to gather intel to have her entire family murdered. She will never see Nerissa again, never hear her sister’s tinkling laughter at one of her cutting remarks, never share a cup of tea together in the pavilion and watch the cherry blossoms bloom as quickly as they wither away.

The sound of Damon’s soft chuckle pulls her out of her reverie.

“Alright, guess I can give you some private lessons,” his suggestion doesn’t go unnoticed. “My room or yours?”

“Mine,” Reina says, trying her hardest to ignore the creep of a warm flush in her cheeks.

“Sounds like a date, _Your Highness_.”

* * *

There’s an almost feline grace in the fluidity of his movements, his blade slicing ribbons through the air. Reina watches him, rapt with admiration.

It’s unsettling to know that she has a type: stabby, dangerous and _not good for her_.

Damon finally stops showing off and sheathes his knife. Reina pretends as if she hadn’t been staring with her lips slightly parted, like she is utterly infatuated.

Because she definitely isn’t.

“Enjoying the show?”

The shit-eating grin on Damon’s face is just begging to be punched off.

Clearing her throat, Reina asks, “Show me how to do that… please.”

Her inky eyes glint with barely contained enthusiasm. Damon only grins wider at this, drawing out one of his daggers with a completely unnecessary flourish before placing it gently in her hand.

“Had I known how much this would turn you on, I woulda offered to teach you how to knife someone sooner.”

Face burning, Reina splutters, “Even if I were turned on—which by the way, I am totally not—”

Damon rolls his eyes and snorts, “Liar.”

“Oh yes, very attractive there, _Reznor_. My panties are positively soaked,” she snarks, almost convinced by her own performance. “You’re also forgetting that I’m holding a knife and could stab you right now.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

His gaze raking over her, Damon prowls towards Reina, as if he were stalking prey. He towers over her, standing far too close for comfort; so close, that she can faintly make out the wafting notes of leather and oil in his scent.

Damon’s eyes, a maelstrom blue, as deep and as cold as the ocean, threaten to drown her.

“Just try me, Princess.”

The cadence of his words singes her, and Reina feels him pull her towards his gravity, pointy-end first.

Fingers meeting the hilt of the dagger, she takes a step back and hesitantly draws it out in front of her. Her grip trembles, and Damon, of course, has the audacity to burst out laughing at her.

“Okay, first of all, you’re holding it the wrong way,” he says.

Reina almost retorts with something unflattering, but her breath hitches when Damon grasps her hand without warning.

“Don’t put your thumb on the spine of the blade, or else you’ll risk slicing through yourself.”

He turns the knife over in her palm, reorienting her fingers to their correct positions.

Damon eyes her flustered expression with amusement, “I learnt that the hard way.”

Reina finds herself quietly satisfied with her solid fistful of a dagger underneath the assassin’s gloved hands. It feels strangely natural to wield, her mind humming with thoughts of _finally_ and _safety._

Not allowing herself further introspection to the uncomfortably warm feelings she’s experiencing, Reina mockingly gasps.

“You’re actually being helpful.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Damon drawls. “Besides, I can show you _all_ the ways in which I can be _extremely_ helpful.”

Thoroughly unimpressed, Reina forcefully pries herself away from his hold, shaking her head.

“Let’s just get on with it,” she says.

The rest of the evening goes by rather productively with Damon demonstrating basic movements to her. At one point, he presses himself against Reina’s back while guiding her arms, and she embarrassingly knows that he definitely notices the effect that has on her.

“Always fight dirty,” he purrs into her ear. “And if you get the chance, just run.”

Damon trails his fingers along her bare arm, and she can only let him do so, nerves setting alight at his touch.

Hands clammy, Reina swallows down a breath that she was unaware of holding.

“What, just run like a coward?”

He steps away, and she tries to suppress her disappointment at the loss of contact.

Damon crosses his arms, wearing his serious face. “As a complete novice in combat, if you want the best chance for survival when someone jumps you, you better get the hell outta dodge.”

She frowns. “And if I can’t get away?”

“You stab ‘em with the pointy end of your dagger, and _then_ you run away. Incapacitate your opponent first, if you can.”

Reina isn’t the least prepared when she finds her back slammed into her bedroom wall with a blade hovering over her neck.

“Better act fast, Princess.”

Her blood runs cold. She’s back in that room again, her vision dimming, consciousness sputtering in the face of relentless agony—

_NONONO, MAKE IT STOP_

—trapped and utterly helpless, no one is coming to save her.

Lungs void of air and choking with sheer terror, her mind only just registers the feel of a fine blade in her hand.

She blindly lashes out, but her wrist gets caught.

“What the fuck—” Damon’s agitated face swims into her view. “—was that?”

Her eyes are stinging.

The assassin’s own eyes widen at her tears. He lowers her wrist slowly before detaching her fingers from the hilt, disarming her.

Heart threatening to burst through her chest cavity, Reina gasps when strong arms engulf her, grounding her.

Damon utters her name with a gentleness that she didn’t think he could possess.

“Reina… just breathe.”

She can’t. The sobbing is persistent, not leaving any room for oxygen.

Damon’s hand cups the side of her face, his thumb brushing away a tear tracking down her cheek.

She is falling apart in front of him, and she is horrified that he gets to witness her painstakingly crafted veneer shatter into worthless pieces.

“I-I don’t want you to see me like this,” Reina buries her face in her hands and tries to hide her sobs behind gritted teeth. “I don’t want _anyone_ to see me like this.”

“Prin—…Reina, hey, it’s alright—”

She whips a baleful glare at him, eyes ablaze.

“You don’t even give a shit about me,” she snaps acridly. “You wanted to sell me out the first chance you had!”

Shame curls in her stomach, nauseating her.

Reina’s voice dies down to a whisper, “…I should have fucking known better.”

The concern in his expression dissipates into a face that is maddeningly impassive.

“But I didn’t end up selling you out, did I?”

Silence. Reina turns away, refusing to look at him, not bearing to see the judgment in his eyes.

Damon loosens his hold on her.

His words are measured, “Do you want to be left alone?”

 _No._ “Please,” she manages to spit out, breathing in raggedly. “Just go.”

There is a brief pause before Reina feels Damon’s arms release her, the sudden loss of his warmth biting at her skin.

She curls into herself on the floor, her throat burning. Hearing the doors shut softly at his departure, Reina is left alone to grieve.

**Author's Note:**

> _“Mold me. Pick me up and hold me.  
>  ‘Cause I’ve been feeling ugly, anything but lovely.”_
> 
> – oldsoul


End file.
